


Digger Darts

by byericacameron



Series: Canon AU [10]
Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byericacameron/pseuds/byericacameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it's a Sidewinder game, even lawn darts can be explosive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digger Darts

Zane looked out at Kelly’s sprawling backyard from the safety of the porch. He didn’t know how yet, but this was probably not as simple as it looked.

“Lawn darts?” he asked Ty.

Ty shrugged, a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. “It was Digger’s turn to pick the game.”

“So that means lawn darts?”

“Means bayou lawn darts, son,” Digger corrected as he passed them carrying another armful of oversized plastic darts.

“Why do I feel like this is going to end in a hospitalization?” Zane asked.

Ty laughed as he followed Digger down the steps. “Because Digger Darts usually do.”

“How good are your reflexes?” Kelly asked as he stepped into the space Ty had vacated.

 _Oh hell_ , Zane thought. “Good enough to have kept me alive this long.”

“You’ll need them today. The point of the game is to not get blown up.” Then with a cackle and a leap that carried him over all four steps to land in the grass below.

Zane tried very hard not to take Kelly’s words literally. Then he remembered exactly who he was spending the day with and all of the stories he’d heard about Digger and explosives and… shit. Someone really was going to die tonight.

Resigning himself to the inevitable mayhem and bloodshed, Zane slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and strolled over to where Sidewinder had gathered. The men stood in a loose circle around Digger and Zane stepped in slightly behind Ty, resting his hand on the center of Ty’s lower back.

“Right, so, rules for the newbie.” Kelly clapped his hands together and grinned at Zane. Beside him, Nick snorted.

“Rules?” Nick scoffed. “Since when do any of you bastards follow rules?”

“Okay, fine.” Kelly waved Nick’s comment off. “They’re not rules anyway, they’re more like warnings and bewares.”

Zane turned slightly toward Ty. “Just remember that if I die today, you’re gonna have to be the one who calls my mother and tells her how it happened, doll.”

“Don’t get dead then, baby.” Ty patted Zane’s cheek and grinned when Zane glared.

“Children, play nice or I’m taking your toys away,” Kelly warned.

Zane opened his mouth to say “Yes, please, I think that would be a fantastic idea,” but Ty jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow and muttered, “Shut up, Lone Star.”

Smirking, Kelly moved toward Digger’s row of multicolored darts and carefully picked up a red one from the end of the row. “So, warnings. If it’s a good throw and you let these things drop, you lose. You don’t catch them before they make body-contact, you lose. You don’t catch them before they make body contact and you also might get speared, so there’s that too. You shouldn’t let that happen either.”

Kelly ran a fingertip over the long metal spike protruding from the end of the dart. His expression was somewhere in between maniacal and sexual and Zane honestly didn’t know if he should be scared or turned on. Nick definitely looked torn between amusement and the desire to drag Kelly back into the cabin.

Then Kelly added, “Oh and there’s the slight chance these things may explode if not handled carefully.”

Shit. It was like some mutated cross between Frisbee, darts, dodgeball, hot potato, and Russian roulette.

“Really?” Zane asked Ty.

Ty just grinned, grabbed Zane by the back of the head, and kissed him hard and fast. “Good luck, Lone Star.”

Then, without ever uttering the word  _go_ , Sidewinder burst into motion. They dove for the center and grabbed two darts each before darting between the trees and deeper into the woods. Zane was already more than five seconds behind them by the time he made it to the protection of the thicker stands of trees. And he was facing off with five Force Recon marines all carrying explosive lawn darts while he didn’t know the terrain, the rules of engagement, or how the fuck he’d let himself get roped into this.

This was not really how he saw himself dying, but he’d committed himself. Too late to back out now. Retreat hell, right?

For a minute or so, Zane moved quietly through the trees, searching for a spot to provide decent cover and a good line of sight. He finally hunkered down in a passable place ten seconds before O’Flaherty came barreling through the clearing. The way he was running, someone was clearly after him and his hands were empty—he’d already used or lost his darts.

Zane took aim and launched a bright green dart at Nick’s chest.

The fucker caught it like a football and kept running.

"Thanks for the ammo, Garrett!" Nick grinned and disappeared into the trees.

Almost too late, Zane saw the flash of color in the trees to his right. He spun in time to see Digger disappearing and a bright blue dart aiming for his head.

Zane managed to knock the dart off course and avoid the lethal-looking spike, but the shift in his weight sent him tripping over an exposed root.

He landed directly on top of the red dart he was still holding.

There was just enough time for him to close his eyes tight and think,  _Oh fuck_ , before the thing exploded.

It felt like being kicked in the chest by a horse (something Zane had most definitely felt before, glancing though that blow had been), but it distinctly did  _not_  feel like the deadly (or at least maiming) explosive force he’d been expecting.

_What the fuck?_

“Hah! Looks like those reflexes aren’t as great as you thought, Garrett,” Kelly said as he patted the back of Zane’s head. “You lose.”

Confused and still having a hard time breathing, Zane pushed himself up. Carefully. When he looked down, his once white shirt was splattered a bright red color. Fire-engine red, not blood-red. Still not quite up to speed, Zane ran his index finger through the stain and rubbed the whatever-it-was between his thumb and forefinger.

Paint. The entire dart was filled with fucking paintball paint.

Of course it was. Shaking his head and grinning, Zane rolled onto his back and laid in the middle of the playing field watching the clouds through the canopy of the forest, trying to catch his breath and listening to Sidewinder go to war around him. 


End file.
